Monday, July 21, 2014

EPISODE 47


“So what the hell do we do with him?” I asked.

Bosco and I were driving back from lunch in his car.  We had purposely avoided talking about Pierre throughout the meal.  I know I didn’t have much to add on the subject and Bosco rebuffed the only attempt I made at bringing it up.  But now he seemed ready to engage and I was fascinated by his response.

“It’s obvious, Michael.”

“It is?”

“Sure.  The answer was right in front of us all through that little meeting we just had with him.”

“Kindly educate me.”

“Well, do you notice how Pierre always shows up at a meeting with a notepad?”

I’m a fairly observant fellow and so that small detail had not escaped me.  I nodded and Bosco continued.

“He takes his job very seriously.  In fact, I bet he puts what he believes is a lot more effort in every day than either you or I do.  He doesn’t respond to the extra money I offer him because that doesn’t motivate him.  He also doesn’t seem to really care if you and I shit all over him.  He just shuts down and looks at how unfair everything is.  He feels like a cog.  His problem is that he doesn’t get the one thing he craves the most.  He wants to be in on the decision making process.”


“That’s true, but that’s not the point.  Pierre needs to feel that he matters.  I think that if we let him in on our planning sessions, we might be able to get him to do what we want.  If he becomes part of the process that establishes goals and strategies, he’ll feel like he’s part of the inner group.  That sense of belonging is very important to Pierre.  Even if he needs to start at the bottom, he doesn’t want to feel as though that’s what he’s doing.”

“I have a friend who married his girlfriend right out of college,” I said while staring out the window at a very attractive woman seated on a motorcycle.  We were on the New Hampshire side of the Connecticut River, so she was riding without a helmet.  Her long blonde hair was braided tightly and I tried to imagine what she might look like with it hanging loose about her shoulders.  As I did this, she turned to me and smiled.  I was a bit embarrassed, but I managed to wave to her just before she gunned her bike and sped off ahead of us. 

“And?” Bosco asked, bringing me back to our conversation.

“Well, she got a degree in English, or History, or something like that.”

Liberal Arts!” Bosco chuckled.  “Yeah, not a lot of jobs out there for folks with that particular piece of paper.  At least not right off.”

“Absolutely.  She was really bummed out too.  She went out and applied for every day job she saw in the paper.  You couldn’t say she didn’t have that part of the game down.”

“But,” Bosco interrupted, “She didn’t have game though, did she?”

“Am I telling you this story or are you gonna?”

“Play on!”

“Thank you.  Anyway, she didn’t get any offers and she was depressed as hell about it.  I went over to their place for a couple beers after work a few weeks back and she was there, all upset.  Her husband was trying to cheer her up, but all she did was cry, ‘Four years of college and this is what it gets me’.”

“Think Pierre feels that way?”

“I sure as hell do, Bosco.  So, I’m going to have to agree with you for once.  If we’re going to ever get Pierre to perform, we’re going to have to bring him in.  This might not be too bad a thing anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“Maybe he can tell me why kids his age want to buy hair.”

“You don’t know?”

“Shit, Bosco!  I don’t understand why anyone buys hair!”

“No you don’t, do you?”

“Nope.”

“It’s my humble suggestion that you keep that one great truth to yourself, Michael.  I get what you’re saying.  But the studio owners who pay us for advice wouldn’t be all that understanding.”

“I’m not stupid, Bosco.”

“No, you’re not.  But you can sometimes be too blunt and that makes it seem like you’re arrogant.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay!” Bosco said, ready to change the subject.  “So when we get back to the office, I want to look at our new site with you.  The beta is live now and we can go over how this thing is going to work.”

“We bringing Pierre in on this?”

“Might as well.  I built it for him and all of his Gen-X friends!”

A half hour later, Pierre, Bosco and I crowded around the screen in Bosco’s office.  To an outsider, it might have resembled a trio of cold, hungry cavemen at the primeval moment of the discovery of fire, with the exception that the youngest of those cavemen was taking copious notes of everything that he saw or heard.  Bosco clicked from page to page on the new site, which had the unfortunate URL: “theresnohaironmyhead.com”.

“You really like that?” I had asked Bosco of the site’s address.

“Actually, Michael – I’d rather hear what Pierre thinks about it.”

Pierre stopped scribbling in his notebook and took a long look at the site page on the display.  He flipped back a couple of pages in his notebook, looked at the words there and then with a serious expression, he gave us his verdict.

“It’s perfect.”

“Why?” I asked.

Pierre looked down at his notebook again, but didn’t appear to be reading from it.  Instead, he spoke slowly and clearly, apparently trying to explain to me a concept that he found so simple that I must have appeared to have been brain damaged to him.

“Because it’s the first thing that will go through a guy’s head when he suddenly realizes that he’s going bald.”

When I went home that afternoon, I reflected on what Pierre had said.  This hadn’t been what had popped into my tiny little mind when I first realized that I was losing my hair.  It had been one morning shortly after my 31st birthday.  I’d wandered into the bathroom to take a leak and brush my teeth.  Afterwards, I looked into the mirror to take stock of the damage I’d inflicted on myself during the previous evening out.  The tell tale signs of a fair amount of alcohol and marijuana abuse presented themselves as I looked at my bloodshot eyes and the black marks underneath them.  Screw it, I thought.  I can work this off with a couple cups of fresh ground coffee and a brisk walk outside.  I was almost ready to turn away and leave the bathroom when I glanced at the mess of hair on the top of my head. 

When I was a boy, my mother taught me how to part my hair and comb it.  In spite of the fact that my hair always seemed to stick out from the back, sheer will power and repeated brushing “trained” it to bend to my will.  I was able to rake my fingers through my hair and have it settle out the way my mother liked it by the time I was maybe 9 years old and from that day, I swore I’d find a way to destroy the one image of myself that she had coerced me into creating.  When I was 16, I grew out my hair shoulder length and parted it right down the middle.  To my delight, this had the effect of infuriating both of my parents.  Nothing more rewarding than getting a little two-for-one action!  But as I looked into the mirror 15 years later, I saw that the fine part that I had nurtured with such malice aforethought had seemingly…widened!  In fact, it looked less like a neat line that separated the right and left poles of my head as it did the runway of a major metropolitan airport.

As my right forefinger traced the path of this augmentation, I began to wonder how long it had been going on.  Things like the loss of what appear to be perhaps a quarter of the hair on one’s head don’t normally happen overnight.  Obviously, this had been developing for quite some time, but I’d either been too oblivious to notice, or perhaps I had seen it and subconsciously chosen to ignore the whole thing. 

I hadn’t given it another thought since.

Deep down, I guess that I really didn’t get the hair replacement business.

The next episode of SlipNot will be published on July 29th.
If you'd like to read SlipNot in its entirety, GO HERE.

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